CHAPTER XXI.
The clack, clack of a windlass was heard one fine morning sounding overthe waters of the river that hurried by the Buccaneer's chief city.Alas! the merry songs of his seamen, as they hove in the slack of theirchains was no longer to be heard. Their cheering "Yo, heave ho!" was buta faint memory of the past. No cloud of sails was spread to catch thebreath of the north wind; but the vessel moved stealthily down theriver, leaving behind her a muddy wake and above a long winding blackserpent of smoke.
Great changes had come over this old Buccaneer. Neither he, nor hisships were anything like what they were in the good old past. The pastthat we are always looking back to with such loving and longing eyes.Those huge wooden castles that had borne his flag to so many victorieshad been towed long ago to their last moorings. But ah! things change,and mountains even, if not moved by faith, are constantly being alteredby that persistent worker, time. People looked back with regret to thosegrand old wooden walls, with their tier upon tier of guns; but it wasall in vain. Science had condemned them. Amidst all the change that wasconstantly going on, there was one thing on board of the old Ship ofState that bound the Buccaneer to the past. She was still impelled bywind, and consequently was not a rapid sailer. The Church Hulk alongsideher, was also propelled in a similar manner, but considering the galesof wind that sometimes swept her decks she was a slow mover.
Away went the Buccaneer in his steam yacht, old Dogvane, of course,being at the helm. The cox'sn, however, for reasons already mentioned,was left behind. The captain's face did not wear an expression ofhappiness, but then he was one of those who take their pleasuresseriously, and sometimes even in a melancholy manner; and often when helooked his saddest he was enjoying himself most. To judge fromappearances, people might be pardoned if they thought that he and hismaster were bent upon some mournful errand, such as the burying of somedear departed friend.
But to return to the wonder-stricken people who lined the shore. Manywere the questions asked and many were the answers given. Though ourbrave old Buccaneer hated anything secret, more especially in otherpeople, yet he himself conducted all his public affairs by a secretcouncil; being driven to do so, perhaps, by necessity. Then the reasonfor this sudden and somewhat mysterious departure was left open to allkinds of conjecture, some saying one thing, some another.
"What is in the wind now?" asked one. "Is the old man steering for peaceor for war?"
"Ah!" cried another, "perhaps his spirit is at last aroused. Heaven onlyknows he has slept long enough!"
"The barking of curs, my lads," said a third, "does not disturb theslumber or the dignity of a bull-dog. Fighting, mates, it may be; forthose who won't fight will fall."
The young hands looked hopeful and the hot blood mounted to theircheeks, for they had heard and read of fights by sea and land, and ofthe doughty deeds done by their forefathers, and they longed, too, forthe fray. There was life in these young sea whelps yet. It was said thatthe wanton, Luxury, had touched them gently with the velvet tips of herfingers, but so far she had not taken away their manhood and put them tolie on downy beds scented with the perfume of flowers. No, no, she hadnot gone as far as that, and though the Buccaneer's women, some of them,had become masculine, his men had not surrendered up their position tothem just yet.
The young expressed their hopes, the old men shook their heads. TheOjabberaways were wild with delight, and hoped that their tyrant master,as they called him, would get so embroiled that they might have a chanceof shaking themselves free. Then, as many thought, there would be merrytimes indeed for those who lived in the green and fertile isle of theWest.
The Ojabberaways now behaved themselves in a manner so peculiarly theirown, that there was every prospect of a free fight. The leaders, or paidpatriots as they were called, took up a strong position, behind whatevernatural objects presented themselves, and from these points of vantagethey commenced pelting their opponents with strong personal abuse. Ofthis they always kept a large supply ready on hand. Wise counselsprevailed, and the blood of the young Buccaneers was cooled down, and soa row was avoided and all attention was again directed to the head ofthe family and his doings. "Mates!" cried one sturdy fellow, "it's notfor fighting he has gone with Captain William Dogvane on board. Morelikely he has gone to beg some person's pardon for some idle wordsspoken, or may be he's gone to hand over some patch of land that we gotin fair and open fight. But let that pass, conscience becomes tender asa man grows old."
Here a square built old sailor with a patch over his left eye, and whowas minus an arm and a leg cried out, "Who would spill his blood andstand the chance of being knocked on the head, if he thought that all hegot in fair and open fight was to be given back, because a tenderconscience pules and whines. Look at me, mates! The glim of one of myskylights is dousted, and is battened down for ever. My timber too I'velost, and have I been lopped of my branches for nothing? All, forsooth,because an old man's conscience pricks. Damme, lads! there's no justicein the like o' that. Do our neighbours give up what they have grabbed?not they; more likely to put the pistol to your head, as in days of old,and cry out, 'Stand and deliver?' That's the way of the world, mates,and we must not set up to be better than other folk. Haven't I a vestedinterest in the old man's conquests to the extent of one arm, a leg andan eye? Then damme, make all fast, say I!"
Another said, "The old Buccaneer is more fitted now to carry the staffof a pilgrim than the pistol and cutlass of a pirate."
"Vast heaving, my mates," cried a voice from the crowd, "no hard namesif you please. Our master's buccaneering days are over, and there issomething so unsavoury about the name of a pirate, lads, that the wordis now never used in good society. As to whether any little bit ofbusiness in that way is done on the sly, it is not for us to say. Thewise man's eye is not always open; but his mouth, my hearties, isgenerally shut, so let us wait and see what comes of our master'speregrination." This was all that the old coxswain contributed at thisparticular part of the proceedings.
The Port Watch said there was no remedy for anything, but a shift ofwatches. Some even advocated a sudden raid on the old Ship, and bytaking her by surprise to effect their purpose. Random Jack was fordoing this, and he declared his readiness to lead the assault, and hiscourage was very much applauded, and not at all doubted. He was becominga great favourite amongst the people, who had still so much of the oldstuff left in them that they could appreciate pluck in any one. Just asthey were going to put their plan to the trial, a soft sound of musiccame over the water. Music, it is known, has charms to soothe. Someuncovered their heads reverently for they thought it was the eveningsong coming from the old Church Hulk; but they were all very muchdisappointed when they found out that it was only the cook accompanyinghimself on his barrel organ to a hymn strung to his own praise.
This showed that the watch were not asleep. At the same time a spark, asbright as a diamond, rested, as it were, on the bulwark of the old Shipof State. This was caused by the rays of the setting sun impinging uponthe glass eye of the carpenter. The burly butcher, fly flapper in hand,all ready for action, could also be seen. This made Random Jackthoughtful. Random Jack remembered the butcher's instrument of tortureand he rubbed a part that had been more than once affected, and as hedid so, he said that in his opinion things were not quite ripe foraction, so the assault fell through, and the old Ship was allowed toride peacefully at anchor. Hereupon the old coxswain took theopportunity of delivering an oration. "Mates!" he said, "let us donothing rashly. Hasty actions often require much time for repentance.If so be that you can shift watches by fair means, do so; but give oldBill Dogvane a fair chance. He is an old hand, and an able steersman,and he has weathered many a storm." There was now a great outcry againstthe coxswain; he was called a traitor; a follower of Bill's; a carpetbag full of old wives' sayings; a bladder full of wind and such likethings; one who, if he was struck on one cheek, would turn the other.All this abuse got old Jack Commonsense's back up, as the saying is, andwhipping out an oath or two, he exclaimed:
"Damme mates! I hope as how Iam as good a Christian as the best of you, and as ready as any of you todo my duty to my God and my neighbour; but the man who strikes me,damme! I strike him back, or my name is not Jack Commonsense. Look younow: do you think if any of you blustering, railing lubbers, were toboard the old Church Hulk there and strike, say, the High Priest on onecheek, that he would straightway turn the other? If you think so, go andtry the experiment; I, for one, ain't agoing to. Mates! have we everfought our enemies, that our clergy, God bless them! did not bless us,and pray for us? And while we fought with sword and pistol did they notfight for us with their spiritual weapons? Example, my mates, is thebest precept, and our Church has never yet taught us in that way thatfighting is wrong; or that too much meekness, except from outsiders, isto be very highly commended." When the old coxswain got upon his legs itwas hard to get him down and every stump was to him a pulpit. Hecontinued, "God forbid! that I should be a bully, going about the worldseeking quarrels with the weak; but God grant, my lads, that I maybeever ready to lead you all on against the attacks of the strong, whothreaten us, and a young woman as I keep company with will be well tothe fore, and if you are not found ready to follow old Jack and thebeggar woman, then, my lads, make ready your necks for the yoke of theforeign invader. And it is old Jack Commonsense that says so."